The Rwby Classics
by jackjack2
Summary: A collection of short stories and poems based off classical works of literature:-(1) The Raven- -(2)The Tell-Tale Heart-
1. Chapter 1

Original by Edgar Allen Poe

 _ **The Raven**_

Once within the ancient Forest, where Yang's heart did beat the sorest,  
Left by friends and fam'ly, lonely, she her bitter sadness bore-  
While she stumbled, comrades lacking, suddenly there came a flapping,  
And the sound of something snapping, snapping teeth with savage roar-  
"Tis one single Grimm," she muttered "flapping with its savage roar-  
But a Grimm, and nothing more."

Sighing sadly she just waited for the beast which she so hated,  
Which had long ago created with the humans, bloody war-  
Ember Celtica she loaded, rounds of red she knew exploded,  
For with shining dust she'd coated, coated ev'ry one she wore-  
Ev'ry single shell and bullet which within her coat she wore-  
"Soon this Grimm shall be no more"

Yet within the bushes hiding, there a shapeless form residing,  
Standing now, towards her gliding, on the moonlit forest floor-  
"Tis a person," Yang decided, "Who by some odd path was guided,  
Till we two have now collided near this beast that I deplore-  
Strange that we have now collided near this beast that I deplore-  
Coincidence, and nothing more."

Then her heart did beat more quickly, though so recently so sickly,  
Through the darkness pressing thickly, someone she had seen before-  
Filled with hope (and with it terror), staring, praying for no error,  
Moving feet which would not bear her, healing wound in heart so sore-  
Gasping from the shock of seeing, healing wound in heart so sore-  
There her mother stood before.

Raven's mask with Grimm eyes staring, she the demons' likeness wearing,  
But behind them, is she caring for her daughter anymore?  
Yang forgetting sorrow's stinging, hope and gladness mother bringing,  
Caution to the cold wind flinging, pain from soul away does pour-  
Safe in presence of her mother, all the pain from soul does pour-  
Till her mourning is no more.

But no chance for happy greeting, though so long since last time meeting,  
Grimm with teeth intent on eating swoops towards them with a roar-  
Yang so shocked, her senses failing, does not see the Grimm assailing,  
But her mother, sword unveiling, from her sheath the blade she tore-  
Pointing at the swooping demon, from her sheath her blade she tore-  
Then quoth Raven, "Nevermore!"

Yang did hear her mother's warning, yet the shout of caution scorning,  
She no longer in such mourning, heart with joy all to its core-  
Leapt to join her mother, weeping, in her mind no thought she keeping,  
Of that Grimm upon her sweeping, sweeping down to forest floor-  
Saw her not that fiendish savage, sweeping down to forest floor-  
With the name of Nevermore

But now Raven, seeing daughter, diving Grimm about to slaughter,  
Thinks of lessons years have taught her, thinks of oath that once she swore-  
Sheathing sword and child spurning, back upon her offspring turning,  
Notwithstanding daughter's yearning, "But one rescue, not one more-  
Once already have I saved you, once enough and not one more-  
One time only, never more."

Yang, her eyes with wideness growing, watches her the mother going,  
And the flight of Grimm not slowing sees the thing she did ignore-  
Monster's claws upon her raking, Aura low and sudden breaking,  
Screaming out at creature taking, taking blood from every pore-  
Lacerations from the creature spilling blood from every pore-  
Blood outpouring till no more.

Crumpled body, dying, bleeding, happy life from veins proceeding,  
"Help!" she cries to mother, pleading, Raven watching all the gore-  
Mission done, the monster leaving, Yang with chest just barely heaving,  
Crippled lungs and scarcely breathing, mother's face she did explore-  
Searching for an explanation, Raven's face she did explore-  
Till her heart beat nevermore.

As the moonlight dimmed and faded from her eyes which for death waited,  
Slain by enemy so hated, dead upon the forest floor-  
Raven t'ward her daughter walking, mother to her child talking,  
"Yang you fool," she told her, mocking, "Ne'er again for hope explore-  
Lest like this you perish bleeding, ne'er again for friend explore-  
Never seek them, nevermore…."

Yang with gasping breath awaking, dripping sweat and limbs all shaking,  
Now no longer body aching, yet no hope could heart restore-  
Feeling for the cuts and gashes, for the blood in ruby splashes,  
Lucid dream like all Grimms' ashes melts until it is no more-  
All but sorrow, loss, and mem'ry melts until there is no more-  
Yang alone, just like before.

"No!" she screams to darkness pressing, both to air and soul addressing,  
"None shall stop me from possessing all I lost in life's long war-"  
She with Grimm determination swearing to her declaration,  
Spurning mother's condemnation, "Ne'er give up till I restore-  
Friends and loved ones, all were stolen, I won't quit till I restore-  
Ne'er lose hope, no, nevermore."

 _If you have any suggestions, please leave them in the reviews._


	2. Chapter 2

**Based on 'The Tell-Tale Heart" by Edgar Allan Poe**

* * *

 _ **The Tell-Tale Eyes**_

 _True_! -many years, my daughter- many years ago it was, and now for it you think me wicked? I have seen both heaven and hell upon this world, and wickedness comes in much darker forms than my own. See how willingly I admit to you my deed? Is this the mark of one who is wicked?

I cannot say how it was the idea came to me. You may think perhaps it was jealousy, or betrayal felt towards this woman over the husband that once had been mine. Perhaps even jealousy over you. But she had always been kind. She cared for those I left even better than I had. I think it may have been her eyes!, yes, that was it! She had the eyes of a Huntress- a shining silver that gleamed in the moonlight. When they turned upon me I could feel them piercing straight through my Aura, through my very soul. So, gradually, by degrees, I made up my mind to kill Summer Rose, and thus to rid Remnant of those eyes forever.

Still you think me wicked, jealous of the woman who _replaced_ me. But jealousy is hatred, and hatred acts impetuously, without reason. Oh, how deliberately I planned her execution! For more than a week I followed her on her missions throughout Remnant, never revealing my presence. Each night I stood over her, watching, protecting from all that might try to claim my victim. I was calm, quiet, unseen. Never once did she suspect me. With the greatest of patience and determination I stalked my prey. No longer did I _wear_ this mask; I _was_ the Grimm, always following, never stopping, never slowing, driven on by a constant gnawing, a whisper within my mind that seemed to control me.

And finally that whisper drove me forward one last time. Under a blanket of clouds I approached her prostrate form, shrouded in shadows. With the thrill of the hunt coursing through my chest, it was all I could do not to sweep down upon her immediately. Yet slowly I stalked towards her, triumph lifting my step and curling my lip with Grimm delight.

But just then, splitting through the clouds and spilling onto the forest floor, a beam of moonlight shone upon her face, illuminating it for a brief moment. Whether by this or some other warning, the woman awoke, sitting straight up and gazing this way and that into the darkness. Her breath came in quick gasps, and her weapon trembled in the dim light. Hidden in the night I stood motionless, concealed. Her silver eyes, flashing, passed me over and over. Oh, how I hated those eyes, those eyes whose gleam made Grimm flee in terror.

For an hour or more Summer knelt there. Was there _fear_ in that pale face? It certainly seemed so. As she looked about a slight whimper seemed to escape her lips. It was not the sound of a weakling or a coward. No, it was the whimper of one who knew what Fate required of them, yet feared it nevertheless. Within my soul I pitied her, though behind my mask I chuckled. It was a whimper that had echoed from my mouth as well, and more times than one. It is always accompanied by loss: for myself, the loss of my family -for her, the loss of her life.

But finally her arm drooped, her weapon clanging uselessly upon the ground. In those accursed eyes I could see sorrow, resignation, and surrender. Even as I struggled against the whispers that flung me towards her, I could heard her soft voice, "She's safe. My work is done. And my daughters will be cared for as well." With this she tried to comfort herself, to reconcile herself with what she knew was coming. But it was in vain, for the black-feathered wings of Death had engulfed her in their shadow, and from my claws there was no escape.

Her eyes glinted past me. Once. Twice. Again. Again. At last I could bear it no longer. I had to extinguish those eyes. I could not let them look upon me again! Giving into the whispers I leapt toward her, snarling.

Then she turned to face me, her demeanor serene and calm. She stared straight at me, straight _through_ me, just as my blade descended through her neck. Her Aura dissipated like smoke. Her body fell to the ground. Those silver eyes flashed once more, and then were still, staring up at me, accusing, mocking.

I knew that soon some would question her disappearance. They would find her body with the slash from my own blade and know that I was the one who killed her. So I decided to leave the corpse in the cave of a pack of Grimm nearby, who would surely make quick work of it. Lifting the bleeding remains I set off towards the nearest cave I knew. It was still night, but I ran swiftly; I could not let chance discovery ruin this moment.

Even as I entered the mouth of the cavern, I could hear the beasts within roaring at the smell of fresh blood, or perhaps just at the scent of death and despair. I smiled-what had I to fear? The Grimm would not attack one of their own. And as I calmly walked away into the trees triumph thrilled through me again, filling me with a sadistic glee. Nevermore would the glistening eyes pierce my soul, never again lay bare the inner nightmares of my mind.

Yet with each step I could feel an inner foreboding growing. It was as though there was a presence behind me, watching as I strode through the woods. My panic mounted. I whirled about, scanning the trees from behind the safety of my mask. But there was nothing. Shaking my head, I turned back, my pace increasing every moment. The presence remained. I could feel a cold gaze upon me, as though a ghostly hand was resting on my shoulder. With a shout I began to run, to sprint wildly, blindly trying to escape this unseen spectre that haunted my every stride. But no matter how fast I ran, it would not leave me.

No portal could move me far enough away to avoid the menacing gaze that followed me. No hiding place could keep those eyes from finding me. I knew what it was. It could be nothing else. Those silver eyes had continued to follow me, even past death. There would be no escaping them. They were consuming me, engulfing my very being with their horrible gleam, melting me as though I were just another Grimm.

With a cry I tore the mask from my face. I was standing over her body, now mutilated by a horde of Grimm. I fell to my knees, the whisperings in my mind gone, and beheld what I had done. I did not regret it. But I could not leave it like this.

So I brought her body back to your home, back to my once-husband, and left it there for burial. Her mysterious death was blamed on the Grimm. If ever I was suspected, none accused me. But now willingly I accuse myself to you. You ask why? Let me show you.

Look, my daughter! Look there! Can you see them? Can you see them here, watching?

 _Those gleaming silver eyes._


End file.
